


Manhunters

by MarcusRowland



Series: Slayers CSI [3]
Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: Gen, Minor Character Death, Podfic Welcome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-02-24
Updated: 2003-02-24
Packaged: 2017-10-09 00:08:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/80883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarcusRowland/pseuds/MarcusRowland
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another mysterious death in Las Vegas; CSI investigate, but soon have to call for supernatural help. BtVS / CSI / Angel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is an Angel/Buffy the Vampire Slayer/CSI crossover. This story is a sequel to "Should Have Gone To Vegas.", which involved Angel, Riley Finn, and other characters from BtVS. It is set a several months later, towards the end of Angel Season 3, Buffy Season 6, and contains mild spoilers for Buffy seasons 3 through 6. It was originally published in several parts, which are the chapters below.
> 
> All characters are the intellectual property of their respective creators, film companies, etc.; this story may not be sold or distributed on a profit-making basis.
> 
> I'm British, so's my spelling. Live with it.

Donny Parker stopped, for about the fiftieth time that day, to write a ticket. The battered old camper was parked illegally on a fire road in an industrial zone on the edge of town; there was a puddle of oil underneath and he guessed it had broken down, but it was still illegally parked. As he stuck the ticket on the windscreen he smelled something rotting, and realised that the interior of the cab was full of flies. When he noticed the blood stains around the rear door he called in a report.

* * * * *

 

"What have we got?" asked Gil Grissom as he put on Hazmat coveralls and a face mask.

 

"Camper's licenced to a James Walker in Reno, he says he sold it two months ago." said Catherine, "Purchaser was a John Parker. Bought it privately via an ad in the evening paper, paid cash. He didn't register it with the DMV, still checking if he insured it. He's described as about six-one or six-two, heavy build, in his forties or fifties."

"None of which match the body?"

"Female, about five eight, extremely heavy build. And skinned."

"Completely?"

"Yes."

"We've got a sick one on our hands."

 

"Grissom... I'm not a hundred percent sure the body's human."

 

* * * * *

 

Forensic anthropologist Teri Miller's brow wrinkled as she looked at the X-rays again, and said "Not a gorilla; more like Homo habilis, although the posture is different. The teeth say a carnivore or omnivore. Do you have anything on that?"

 

"Carnivore. There was some meat in the stomach, seems to be raw rabbit." said Grissom.

 

"Grissom, this is undoubtedly the most important anthropological and zoological discovery of the last hundred-odd years. An entirely new hominid species. That or a remarkably convincing fake. I want to know everything."

 

"Well... what you see is what we've got, so far. The body was found in an old camper, someone killed it... no, her... with at least two shots then skinned the body. So far we haven't found any usable prints in the camper, it looks like the killer wore gloves whenever he was in there."

 

"The murderer."

 

"I thought you said it isn't human."

 

"Technically, perhaps, but my guess is that whatever this is was at least as intelligent as a gorilla. I'd provisionally class it as much closer to human than ape, but the skull structure is strange, especially the jaws; more like a muzzle than a normal hominid mouth. Genetic fingerprinting may tell us more, but for now I'd say you were justified in treating it as a homicide."

 

Catherine Willows looked in at the door, and handed Grissom a file. "Ballistics and bloodwork. You'll want to read these right away."

 

Grissom leafed through the folder, then said "Have you still got the number for Angel Investigations?"

"Angel Investigations?" asked Teri.

"The bloodwork on that corpse comes out as human, all down the line, and Ballistics say the perp used silver bullets," said Grissom.

"So we've either got a psycho perp or the victim's a werewolf," concluded Catherine. "And Angel's an expert on that sort of thing."

"Have you two been drinking?" asked Teri.

* * * * *

They used the conference phone in Grissom's office. Teri still seemed to be confused, and the conversation didn't help.

 

"...Okay, according to my diary you found the body four days after a full moon. Most werewolves change for three nights around the full moon, which would fit. The pictures you e-mailed look right, although I've never seen one skinned."

A woman's voice in the background added "And can I say 'ewww' again..."

Grissom said "We know that the flies we found in the camper hatched from eggs laid four to five days ago. Given the general state of the body I'd say that they were laid within hours of death. Thast certainly fits that timeframe."

"Is a werewolf human?" asked Teri, her professionalism warring with her scepticism.

"Definitely, at least for most of the lunar month," said Angel, "There are a few that can act rationally the other three days as well, and have conscious control of the change, but mostly not."

"Are they evil?" asked Grissom.

"Not exactly, not in the way the Church would define it; they don't lose their souls or get taken over by demons like vampires. It's more like a disease, rabies with an attitude. Very infectious, by the way, it spreads through saliva or blood in wounds so you want to be really careful handling the body. No, the way it works is that when the change comes on they black out, the animal takes over completely. At first, anyway. After the first few times they start to know what's happening, although they still can't control themselves. Some let the condition get to them and enjoy the killing. Mostly they're horrified when they know what they are, and do their best to avoid hurting anyone. One werewolf I know used to lock himself in a cage on those nights, needed to key in a combination to get out and he could only do that once he was rational. Others try to get to some isolated area and camp out on those nights, chase rabbits and deer."

"And courting couples," said the voice in the background.

"Are they dangerous?" asked Catherine.

"Oh yeah. They pick up on fear, sexual tension, and other emotions that affect body odour, tend to attack when they smell them. They're about as strong as a bear, and much more cunning."

"And they can rip the roof off a convertible," added the voice.

"Okay, Cordy, they're strong and they're gross and they messed up your date. One bad experience four years ago and you're our resident expert. Any other details you want to add?" said Angel, his mouth away from the handset. There wasn't a reply, but a door slammed.

"We've got no record of any attacks that would fit a creature like that in this area," said Grissom, "why else would anyone want to kill it?"

"Money. There's a black market in the pelts. Mostly Sri Lankan witches, I was offered a couple when I was there earlier this year."

"Do you know anyone who could give us more information?" asked Grissom.

"Let me think... there's Harry... no, she's really more of a demonologist... Oz is out of the country... I'm not really sure. Look, I'll ask around in LA but they tend to stay away from big cities, and right now things are a little busy here so I won't be able to check further afield. Meanwhile I'd guess your best bet would have to be Riley Finn, I'm sure his guys have dealt with werewolves. Can you reach him?"

"I've got an e-mail address."

"Okay, give it a try, and I'll see if I can find anything from this end."

* * * * *

Three days later Catherine watched the Humvee drive up to the coroner's building and thought "Here we go again." It wasn't that she exactly disliked Riley Finn, but the idea of a heavily armed commando squad running around her city killing monsters was a little unnerving. An Air Force corporal got out of the drivers seat, moved to the back, and opened the door for a passenger. Not the commandos she expected. A short man in his early twenties, with unruly brown hair, wearing a faded sweatshirt with a 'UC Sunnydale' logo and jeans, with some sort of bead necklace and bracelets. He stood there, squinting in the sunlight, while the driver got a canvas bag and guitar case from the back. He looked absurdly young to be any sort of expert - if anything he reminded her of Doctor Evil's kid in the Austin Powers movies. Catherine walked over. "Mister Osbourne?"

"Call me Oz."

"I'm Catherine Willows." An odd look seemed to flicker behind his eyes for a second as she said "How much do you know about the situation?"

"Not much." The car drove off. Oz waved laconically at the driver.

"If you'll follow me I'll get you a visitor's badge then take you to Gil Grissom, he'll fill you in."

"Lead on."

* * * * *

"Mister Osbourne?" said Grissom, offering a hand. "Take a seat. Let me introduce Teri Miller, the forensic anthropologist working on this case, and Nick Stokes, who's another of our crime scene investigators. Coffee's on the table, or there are some cold drinks in the cooler."

Oz took bottled water, Catherine coffee, and they sat. Nick looked at Oz oddly, but didn't say anything.

"Oz. Mister Osbourne's my dad."

"Damn, thought I recognised you." said Nick suddenly. "Oz from Dingos Ate My Baby. You played my college."

"What?" asked Grissom.

"Used to play bass guitar." Oz didn't seem especially pleased to be recognised. "The group was kind of okay, but I had to give it up."

"You come highly recommended by Riley Finn, and I think a gentleman named Angel also mentioned you."

Oz half-smiled. "You know Angel?"

"He was in town a few months ago. You could say he introduced us to Finn. Rather an... odd character."

"He's okay, I guess. Considering... Used to date a friend. Couple of years since I've seen him."

Teri guessed that there was some subtext she wasn't getting. Maybe this Angel was gay.

"Yes.. Well, both of them seem to think that you're an expert on werewolves, and that's what we need here."

"Someone been attacked?"

"We think someone killed a werewolf."

"Treating it as murder?"

"Isn't it?"

"Surprised, not arguing. Most places they'd pat the killer on the back, or turn away."

"So, you've had experience with werewolves?"

"Been there, been bit, got the T-shirt."

"Then you're..?"

"Relax, it's a long time to the full moon, and I'm kinda protected against turning anyway." He tapped one of the bead bracelets. "Meditation, plus herbs and a little magic. Keeps it under control."

Catherine hesitated, then said "Have you ever..?"

 

"Attacked anyone? Yeah. Killed another werewolf that was trying to kill my girlfriend, but another time I nearly killed an innocent girl. Riley and his guys rescued her. Later he saved me from some people who wanted to dissect me. Which is why I came out of the monastery for this gig."

"You're a monk?" asked Grissom, surprised.

"A student. There's a Buddhist monastery in Tibet helps people like me. Meditation, yoga techniques, that sort of thing. Riley was through there demon-hunting a couple of months ago and we bumped into each other, guess he remembered and thought I could help you. Sent a chopper to get me out of Tibet, then a jet from Nepal. First time I've ever flown Air Force, give me Pan Am any day."

"I'm sorry," said Grissom "You must be tired from the journey."

"Not really. Spent most of it meditating and sleeping, but I wouldn't have said no to a couple of movies. Before we start, there are some things you need to know about werewolves. Including me."

"Yes?"

"First thing, don't get bit. If you do, clean the wound with mercurichrome or hydrogen peroxide, fast and really thoroughly. Nobody really knows how infectious it is, all I know is that I caught it from one tiny bite, and it wasn't around the time of the full moon. Avoid body fluids, things like saliva and blood. I used to make sure my girlfriend didn't have any mouth sores when we kissed, and I always used a rubber. If for any reason I need CPR you want to take the same precautions you would if I had AIDS. Okay?" Grissom and Catherine nodded.

"Second thing, when I'm changed I'm a lot bigger and a hell of a lot nastier."

 

"I thought you could only turn wolf at the full moon," said Teri. "Also, how can you possibly change size?"

"Usually, but really powerful emotions can sometimes trigger it too. Doubt it'll happen here, but you never know. As to the size, you have to understand that this isn't anything like natural, it's magical."

Teri stirred in her seat, thought of objecting, then subsided.

"It acts like a disease, but it doesn't obey the normal rules of nature. Size is nothing to magic, I've seen a girl change into a rat and back, and a man change into a sixty foot snake. Anyway, the only things that'll do much to stop a werewolf, including me, are silver weapons or a dose of tranquillisers that'd drop a horse. A cattle prod or a taser will work too, but only for a few minutes. I've got a dart pistol in my bag, someone else should carry it, it'll keep me out for about two hours." He hesitated, then said "I've also got silver bullets in four calibres. I don't like the idea, but one of you had better carry a gun that will take them."

"Why silver?" mused Grisson, wondering if there was a biochemical reason.

"Magic again, I think. Silver and the moon are connected symbolically. Whatever, it works. Silver is about as poisonous to me as arsenic is to you. And that's all the time, not just when I'm in wolf form, so I'd appreciate it if you'd save that for a last resort."

"It sounds like you could use silver against the infection," said Catherine.

"People have tried it; it kills them before it cures them. Maybe you could use some sort of silver compound instead of peroxide, immediately after a bite, but would you want to risk it?"

"Third thing," he went on, "dogs really hate werewolves, and they know when they're near one. So don't be surprised if they freak out when I'm around."

"Anything else?" asked Grissom.

"That's the highlights. Want to tell me what this is about?"

* * * * *

About an hour later Grissom concluded "We've found more in the van. The main thing is that there are earlier blood stains, two different groups, about a month older than the current cadaver. There were also some tufts of coarse hair which don't match anything in our database, you might recognise them. There were small metal droplets on the kitchen work surface which turn out to be silver, and a scorch mark which is about the right size for a bullet mould, probably a large-calibre rifle. Which wouldn't fit with the bullets we found in the corpse, they were .22, probably fired from a small automatic. Oh, and the engine of the camper was seized, presumably the result of an oil leak, that's why it was abandoned. We've tried to trace its movements, and the movements of the driver after it was abandoned, so far we've nothing."

"Certainly sounds like a hunter," said Oz. "There was one after me once, guy called Cain. He set up shop in a camper."

"Can you describe him?"

"Never met him when I was in my right mind. The people who did... I'd really prefer not to involve them, or let them know I'm back in the country. They've been through a lot, way too much. One thing; I never exactly met him, but he spent a lot of time stalking me and I think I know his scent. If he was around that camper I should be able to smell him, let's try that and see where we go from there. If it is him I suppose I can make some calls."

"Grissom," said Catherine, "You know that a sense of smell isn't going to give us usable evidence."

"We've done it with police dogs, ran tests to show that they could identify people on scent alone, why not a man?"

 

"Because by his own admission Oz has no direct evidence that Cain and the smell are linked, just inference. He also has reasons to dislike Caine. Any defender could tear that to shreds."

 

"I agree, but it's a starting point. If we can identify Cain as involved we can look for admissible evidence. While being careful not to rule out other possibilities, of course."

"This whole thing is so crazy that it'll probably never get to court," said Catherine. "Same as last time, that business with the magician."

"I think that's possible. Nevertheless we'll treat it like any other murder investigation. We have evidence of one death, possibly three. We're going to nail whoever is responsible."

* * * * *

"I don't think I want to go in there," said Oz as he put on coveralls and protective boots in the CSI garage. The camper was there, surrounded by the usual evidence tape barriers.

"The smell isn't that bad." said Catherine.

"You don't understand. _I_ want to go in there, the wolf part of me doesn't. That's never a good sign. I think I'm okay, but be ready for trouble if I'm wrong."

Nick's hand brushed against the grip of the tranquiliser gun.

"Okay. I'm ready. Have to do without the mask though." Oz pulled it down to his neck and began to walk around the barrier. "Okay, smell of blood, that's real strong. Smell of deisel, oil, some propane. Urine, human I think. At least one werewolf, female." As he spoke he seemed to crouch slightly, and his face looked a little strange. Bestial.

 

"Are you all right?" asked Teri.

"Yeah. Haven't smelled that in a while." His voice sounded deeper. "Wolf on the make."

"I don't understand."

"Female werewolves go into season at the full moon. The scent is kind of distracting."

"Can you handle it?" asked Catherine.

"Yeah, but don't come too close, it's making me twitchy." He circled closer. "That's about it from the outside. Open the driver's door."

"Are you sure you're ready?" asked Nick.

"I'm as ready as I'll ever be."

"Okay." Nick pulled the door open.

Oz moved in. "Cigarettes. Whisky. Gun oil." he bent to sniff at the leatherette seat. "Sweat. Yeah. That's Cain." His face was twisted to something inhuman, hairy. Nick half-drew the tranquiliser gun.

"Are you certain?" asked Catherine.

"As sure as I can be. It's him, or someone that smells a hell of a lot like him. Also another werewolf, male, much fainter." He stepped back from the camper, and his face slowly went back to normal. "I'm going to have to make some calls. People I really didn't want to talk to."

"You can use the phone in my office."

He hesitated. "The people I need to talk to... they're in the same line as Riley. Monster hunters. Thing is, they're a lot less official. Riley knows about them, but they have less protection than him, and sometimes they have to work well outside the law. It's possible that they won't want to get involved, and I'm not going to be the one that forces them. I think I need to use a public phone. Give me your contact details, fax, phone and e-mail, someone may want to send you something. I'll be back in a couple of hours."

 

* * * * *

About three hours later Catherine's phone rang. "Hi, this is Oz. I talked to my friends. Took longer than I expected, one of them turns out to be in Britain. He's associated with an organisation that has a lot of contacts, says they probably know about Cain and he'll try to put some sort of dossier together. Can't promise how soon it'll get here."

"Okay."

"Can somebody bring my bags out to me, and give me a lift to my hotel? It'd save me having to walk back and I'm a little wiped."

"No problem, I'll do it myself."

"Thanks." He gave her an address, a coffee shop a mile or so away. When Catherine got there Oz was waiting at one of the tables outside. "Want a coffee?"

 

"Well... iced tea would be nice."

"I'll have one too. Waiter.."

"Grissom said we'll have a meeting at ten tomorrow, if that's okay with you."

"Fine, I guess. Should be rested by then."

 

Catherine studied him as she drank. He looked unhappy. "Something wrong?"

"It's a complicated story. Jerry Springer complicated. Soap opera complicated."

"I've got time."

Oz looked around to make sure they couldn't be overheard. "I sort of told you some of it before. I used to date this girl... then I ran into a female were who was on heat, and I didn't have the control to do anything but mate. My girl found us together the next day, and freaked out. What I didn't realise was that Ver... the were... was a killer. She thought that we were some sort of superior race, I think. When I didn't want to have anything more to do with her she tried to kill my girl... I ended up killing her. I think it was the wolf part of me that killed her, but I'll never know for sure."

Catherine nodded, said nothing.

"After that I split for the first time, went looking for a cure. Eventually ended up in Tibet, and after a few months I thought I had the answers. So I went back to her and found out I was wrong."

 

"Oh."

"While I was away she'd found someone else... another girl. I couldn't handle it."

"That's... unfortunate."

"I think maybe I could have taken it if it had been a guy, but as it was I totally freaked out. Could have killed both of them, but Riley and his men saved them. Saved me, eventually. None of it was her fault, she thought I was gone for good and she had every right to make her own life. It might have happened even if we'd been together, we were sort of drifting apart. I was into rock, she was into other stuff and her girl had the same interests."

"And the calls you just made?"

"Her best friend... not her girlfriend, just a friend... was around when Cain was hunting me. She saved me from Cain, more or less single handed. Later on she gave Riley a big push towards rescuing me when I was going to be dissected."

"So she knows what Cain looks like?"

"She couldn't give me much of a description, it's been a long time and she only ever saw him at night. She told me how to contact the guy I mentioned, the one who went back to Britain, and that ought to help. But one of the other things she told me was that my girl and her girlfriend have split."

"You want to go to her?"

"Damn right. But I think that if I do I'll mess things up more than they are already. They'll get back together if I stay out of it, if I interfere I'll just make things more complicated. From what our friend says things are already bad enough, and I don't think you'd believe it if I told you why they've split, so she doesn't need me to turn up and ruin her life completely."

"I think you're probably right. It sounds like you can't really give her a normal life at present."

"Define normal. But no, not a hope in hell."

 

"So what did you do?"

"Made Buff... my friend... promise not to say I'd called. If I ever find a real cure I'll go back though, just to say 'Hi' and see how things are."

"I hope you can."

"Yeah. Look, I really do feel wiped, or I wouldn't have asked you to bring my bags. If you're ready I'd appreciate that ride."

* * * * *

The file Grissom found on his desk the following morning was unusual. No agency name or logo, nothing to indicate the origin. Just an oddly-sized plastic binder with a dozen or so pages of rich rag paper, laser printed, and a plastic file pocket containing a glossy photograph. There was a printed label reading 'Cain' on the cover and an envelope clipped to the first page, addressed to Oz in flowing black italics. After a moment Grissom recognised the paper size as A4, which probably meant a European source. Nobody could remember the file being delivered, or had seen any outsiders enter Grissom's office.

The dossier wasn't exciting reading The first six pages described Cain in reasonable detail and gave contact details, a bank in the Bahamas that handled his business. There were no fingerprints, but the photograph was excellent. There were copies of his bank records for the last two years; Grissom couldn't begin to think how they had been obtained. As to the rest... Grissom read it through several times, made some copies, went on line to get US census figures, and punched numbers into his calculator. When Oz and the others arrived at ten he was beginning to reach some worrying conclusions. He passed Oz the envelope, and waited while he read the note inside.

Oz scanned the page quickly, smiled, and said "Okay. Lot of strings pulled to get this sucker. My guy says that it's all that his associates know about Cain. He had a hard time getting it, if I'm reading this right they think that Cain is one of the good guys. Shows how much they know."

"Shows that they can't handle basic maths," said Grissom. "Oz, Teri, take a look at the last three pages of this file, Cain's trading record, tell me what you think. Catherine, Nick, take a look at the bank transactions."

 

Oz read for a few minutes, his face increasingly pale. "This can't be right. He's sold fourteen pelts in the last year, all of them in the USA. He's got thirteen full moons in that time, three days per full moon, so he'd have to be killing one every two or three nights of hunting. And there just aren't that many of us. If there were I'd be smelling them everywhere I go. I've met two others my entire life, apart from Tibet, and one was the kid that bit me."

Teri nodded. "I agree. The population dynamics are all wrong. If there were that many werewolves the disease would be spreading so fast that nobody would be safe. My assumptions, before I saw these figures, was that the disease is rather less infectious than Oz believes, and that there are very few survivors of werewolf attacks. Both would limit the spread of the disease.

 

Grissom nodded. "That's more or less what I thought. Nick, Catherine, what about the money side of things?"

Catherine rubbed her ear, puzzled. "If I'm reading this right his expenses have gone down and his income has soared in the last eleven months. Before that he had one large influx of cash every three or four months; now he has cash coming in every month. There was this one month when his income doubled, I guess he sold two pelts, after that it drops slightly, looks like the market price went down a little. At the same time the amount of cash he's withdrawing has gone down considerably."

 

"Definitely," said Nick, "Up to a year or so ago he was withdrawing nearly as much as he was spending, and seems to have travelled a lot. There are withdrawals from all over the southern states, and he was never in the same area two months running. About a year ago the pattern changed; he seems to have started moving at two or three month intervals, and the distance he travels is much less. He was in Reno for two months, came to Vegas this month. It doesn't make any sense."

"It doesn't make any sense if he's hunting werewolves," said Grissom. "I think that we're seeing something different here."

Oz said "Yeah, has to be..."

Catherine finally said it. "He's making them."

Nobody disagreed.


	2. Chapter 2

"It makes a lot of sense when you think about it," said Nick, scanning through the missing persons database. "If you're a psychopath. Why risk your life hunting werewolves when you can just infect some poor sucker, keep him prisoner, and kill him at the full moon? I'm surprised he didn't think of it straight away. Hmm... here's a woman with the right blood group, but she only went missing two days before the full moon. How long does it take?"

"Week or two." said Oz.

"Not her, then."

"Probably."

"Damn it! How the hell am I supposed to identify her without more to go on? We've got a body that ought to be fully human, but it's totally unrecognisable. We can't reconstruct the face, we don't even know her real height or weight."

"Might be a way," said Oz, "it's dangerous."

"How?"

"She would be human again if she was alive. The magic that changed her may not be quite gone. If it's pushed it might just switch the body back."

"How would you do that?" asked Catherine.

"Reverse the spell I use to stop my change."

"So why is it dangerous?"

"I'll be part of the spell, might turn wolf."

"We can take precautions." said Nick "I know it's a lot to ask, but I can't see any other way to do it."

"Okay. Need some ingredients, mostly Chinese herbs, some candles, beads, things like that. And lab supplies."

"There's a Chinese grocery about ten minutes from here. The rest should be easy enough."

* * * * *

"I should apologise," said Oz, as Catherine drove him to the shop.

"What for?"

"Babbling. Usually I'm kinda laconic. Yesterday I was jet-lagged and on a caffeine high, haven't drunk coffee in nearly two years, think I'm still a little buzzed. I think I've said more since I got here than in the last year. Hope you weren't annoyed."

"No. I'm flattered you trusted me."

"Instinct. Goes with the wolf."

"Instinct?"

"Know you won't hurt me or my friends."

"Don't rely on that too much. If you told me about a crime I'd have to take action. That girl you mentioned, the werewolf you killed. With Riley involved I'm assuming that things were handled legally. Don't tell me if I'm mistaken."

"I won't."

"These friends of yours... do they really hunt monsters?"

"Oh yeah."

Catherine waited, but he said nothing more for the rest of the trip.

* * * * *

"He's been chanting for about half an hour now," said Grissom.

"He didn't really say how long it would take," said Catherine.

They'd moved the body to one of the interview rooms. Oz was squatting in a circle of candles, stripped to the waist, his wrists linked to the body by long leather strings of beads. Catherine, Grissom, Teri and Nick watched through the one-way mirror, with a view from the other side of the room via a video camera. Nick was wearing a bulky padded jacket and trousers, borrowed from the trainers at the police dog unit, and thick gloves.

"And I used to think spraying with superglue was a wacky technique," commented Nick.

"If it doesn't work we'll have to think again; maybe there's more to be got from the camper, or the place it was parked, by conventional techniques." said Grissom. "We've checked all nearby buildings for security cameras, but that end of the road seems to have been a blind spot. If he'd only driven on another hundred yards he would have been covered. That's probably why he parked there, for privacy."

"But he didn't," said Catherine. "Remember, the engine was seized, and our mechanic says it was running when it happened. He was driving somewhere along that road. He would have only had a few seconds to pull in to the side. Wait a minute..." she tapped into one of the computers for the scene of crime pictures. "See here, the way the body was tied up for skinning."

"What about it?" asked Nick.

"That's improvised. He's put the ropes through holes in the steel frame under the camper roof, one of them is frayed from a sharp edge. If he was doing it regularly he would have put grommets on the holes, or fitted eye bolts. I think he had to set that up in a hurry after the camper broke down."

"We've been idiots," said Grissom "He was transporting the body somewhere more suitable, to skin her and dispose of the carcass."

"Which implies that he might have driven that way before, or maybe in the other direction."

"If it was a month ago, around the last full moon, we're screwed," said Nick, "most security camera tapes are kept on a three week cycle. But it's possible it was earlier that day, or..."

None of them noticed the chanting stop, at first, until Teri interrupted: "Guys..."

There was a crash, and they turned to see the monster in the next room.

Catherine had thought of Oz as a skinny little guy. Now he was six foot six or so, furry, fanged, bestial, very male. And tearing the room apart.

"Oh crap," said Teri. Oz heard her, despite the soundproofing, and sprang at the glass, which cracked but didn't break.

"That's supposed to be bulletproof," complained Grissom.

Catherine said "He isn't shooting it," as Nick ran round to the door of the interview room and drew the dart gun. Teri picked up a camera and began to take pictures. Oz battered the glass again, then turned away, sniffing.

Catherine shouted "Nick, get in there now! I think he's going to try to eat the body."

Nick heard and went in. Oz leapt at him and tried to bite his arm, but his fangs hit the chain mesh under the padding. Before he could try again Nick shot him in the stomach.

* * * * *

Oz woke, and tried to work out where he was. Under a blanket on a reasonably comfortable mattress. Naked, and with a pain in his stomach. He peered out, and saw the bars of a prison cell. Memory returned.

"Hey!"

There was a pause, then Nick's voice said "You human again?" Oz looked around, and spotted an intercom sitting on a chair with his shirt and some other clothes.

"Yeah. Let me dress." He pulled on underwear and jeans - the waist was right, the legs were a little too long - and his shirt, found his protective beads and charms in a plastic evidence bag next to them, then said "Okay, let me out."

"Coming."

Nick came along the corridor, carrying the dart gun, and peered in from a safe distance.

"It's okay."

Nick looked doubtful, but unlocked the cell.

"Did I hurt anyone?"

"Not really. You took a bite at me, but the padding worked. Bruised my arm a little, but you didn't break the skin."

"Sorry. Thanks for the jeans."

"We always have some spare clothes here for emergencies. I'm afraid yours are ruined."

"Not surprised. It worked?"

"We think so, the body looks much more human. Still skinned though. Thery're working on it now."

"How long have I been out."

"All night. It's just after seven."

"What now?"

"Breakfast. And another meeting."

* * * * *

"Werewolves?" said Warrick Brown, watching the camera tape from the interview room.

"We need more manpower on this one," said Grissom. "I've been trying to keep the loop small, like the vampire case a few months ago..."

"Vampire?" asked Sara Sidle and Warrick, more or less simultaneously.

"...but I have a feeling that everyone is going to be needed. We're dealing with a serial killer. You two will have to get up to speed. Look, it's simple. Supernatural things happen, just like in the horror movies. We've known for a few months. Vampires, magicians, demons, werewolves. We've been keeping it to ourselves for now, at the request of the government agency that handles this sort of thing. I'm in the loop, so are Nick, Catherine, Greg, and Jim Brass. Now I've decided to add you."

"Government agency? Like in 'Men in Black'?" asked Warrick.

"It's primarily a counter-terrorism unit that specialises in supernatural threats, but there's a line in that film that pretty well sums up the situation. People on their own can be smart, people collectively are a dumb mob. You tell them they need to be frightened of monsters, and soon they'll suspect that everyone is a monster."

"Which gets people hurt." said Oz, entering the room with Nick and Catherine.

"Warrick, Sara, this is Daniel Osbourne, our technical consultant. Warrick Brown, Sara Sidle."

"Oz."

Sara recognised him from the tape, and said "And you're... a werewolf?"

Oz nodded.

"Okay, I know it's a lot to take in," said Grissom, "but there just isn't time for a gentle learning curve. Catherine, any progress on identifying the body?"

"As far as we can tell Oz restored her to her normal human form. This is what we've put together from bone structure, fat content, and so forth. Greg is checking dental records."

She showed them photographs, computer-generated models. A Caucasian woman in her late teens or early twenties, brown hair, with a slightly uneven jaw.

"You're sure she's white?" asked Warrick.

"Certain. At the same time that Oz changed the body, the sample of fur in the lab changed to human hair. There was still a little skin attached."

"Interesting," said Grissom. "I wonder if that happened to the rest of the skin."

"If it did our perp is going to be seriously annoyed," commented Warrick.

"How about the jaw?" asked Grissom.

"We may be showing it worse than it was. There was some atrophy of the jaw muscles on her left side, I'd say the result of a facial injury, several years old. My guess would be trauma from a blow to the face, possibly a car crash."

"I'm sure I've seen that face before," said Nick.

"Me too," said Sara.

"Any idea where?"

"Not long ago..." said Sara, typing at one of the computers. "Three weeks? Grace something. Bennington? No, here she is, Bonnington. Age twenty, secretary. Suspected rape, someone spiked her drink in bar, she woke in an alley. We found traces of Rohypnol in her bloodstream but no evidence of sexual contact. Just a gap of a couple of hours where she couldn't remember what had happened, and some scratches on her arm. We couldn't go anywhere with it, there was no useful evidence."

"That'd do it," said Grissom. "He stalks them, drugs them, infects them - I'd guess he uses blood from his previous victim - waits to see if they turn at the full moon, then kills them and skins the body. Catherine, Nick, check it out, makes sure it is her. Warrick, Sara, I want you to check for security camera footage showing that camper along the route it was taking, prior to it being abandoned."

"Wait a minute," said Teri, "we're missing something. I think we're agreed that no disease is a hundered percent infectious, but he's been getting pelts every month, and there was that month when he sold two. There has to be more than one victim. I think he infects two or three per month, probably living in the same area. He must have some way to keep tabs on them."

"So you're saying we might have two more werewolves at large?" asked Grissom.

"He's had a year or so to get things right. I'm guessing none, maybe one other. But I could be wrong."

"Okay, change of plans. Oz, you said you could smell other werewolves at a distance - what sort of distance?"

"Forty, fifty feet."

"How about Cain?"

"Few feet, maybe."

"Catherine, Nick, take Oz with you when you check on Bonnington. Oz, check out the area around her apartment, see if you come up with anything. Wait a minute - does Cain know you by sight?"

"No. Only saw the wolf."

"Okay. Be careful though, he may have some way to spot you. Warrick, Sara, check for similar attacks, anyone else that's been drugged under similar circumstances, especially anyone living in the same area, over the last six months. Try hospitals and doctors as well as police records. Also look for anyone who's dropped out of sight following this sort of incidentl. I'll check the security cameras myself."

Nick finished a phone call, and said "She hasn't been in work since Tuesday last week, the full moon was Wednesday, and there's no reply from her home. I think it's her."

* * * * *

The drive to Grace Bonnington's apartment was quiet. Eventually Nick broke the silence. "Oz, what do you think?"

"Worth a shot."

"I noticed... Grissom didn't ask you, he just took it for granted you'd help."

"Knew I would."

"Why?"

"To stop Cain. Get the weres to Tibet, maybe. At worse, get Riley to control them. Hope Cain hasn't made one that enjoys killing."

"I'm afraid I don't think that's going to be a huge problem," said Catherine. "Teri may be right, but our murderer seems to have planned this very carefully. My guess is we're looking for bodies, not werewolves."

* * * * *

Grissom met Brass on the way to his car and explained the latest developments.

Brass thought for a moment, then said "So your identification of the perp is solely dependent on the nose of this Osbourne?"

"For now, yes, but we've got some forensics if we can locate him. Hair, skin cells, that sort of thing. Nobody goes through this world without leaving something behind them."

"But until we locate him we have the word of a... a werewolf... who has every reason to hate this Cain."

"Believe me, I'm aware of the problem," said Grissom. "We'll need solid evidence to nail him, and it'll have to be evidence that isn't dependent on the supernatural."

"That's not what I mean. He could be lying; he hates Cain, for all you know he could be the killer."

"Not unless he somehow got to Tibet between committing the murder and our call to Finn. I checked with Finn last night; he really was pulled out of a monastery to help us. I haven't run a records or immigration check on him, but I'm willing to bet that it would come out the way he tells it."

"All right, that still doesn't tell us what we do with this Cain, or whoever the murderer is, if we find him. Although I suppose that Finn could take him off our hands."

"You're suggesting that we have him locked away without a trial? Last time Finn was in hot pursuit of a prisoner who'd escaped from Federal custody in this state, which simplified things enormously. This time we've got to play it by the book. You'll notice that he hasn't sent in his men to handle this; that's because it's a matter for local law enforcement. I'm fairly sure that he only arranged for Osbourne to help us because he owed us for our help in that case. Osbourne is a civilian, so Riley doesn't risk exposing his own operation by involving him."

"What about Osbourne? Can we trust him?" asked Brass.

"He's unconventional, but we're not going to rely on his uncorroborated word. In fact I want to minimise his contribution to the final evidence."

"Which means that the defence will probably want to put him on the stand to mess up your case."

"That's a risk we're just going to have to take."

* * * * *

"Okay, what the heck is this site and why is it bookmarked?"

"I thought you were checking records."

"The records server is down - should be back in a few minutes. So I went on-line to see if there were any references to missing persons in the press, and found this site bookmarked in the browser."

Sara looked over Warrick's shoulder and read "'Demons, Demons, Demons.' You must have some weird hobbies."

"Not me. Come to think of it, Nick was using this PC, he must have forgotten to log out. I guess these are his bookmarks."

"Must be something to do with the case, or with the vampire case Grissom mentioned. See if it has anything about werewolves."

"Let's see... magical disease, no known cure, controllable by magic and meditation, yadda yadda. Okay, pretty much what Grissom told us. Any links there?"

"Mmm... Other lycanthropes, preventing infection - hey, that's been copied from the Surgeon-General's AIDS site, they just changed AIDS to lycanthropy, magical significance. Hmm, says werewolf pelts are used for 'dark magic' in Sri Lanka, wearers can voluntarily become werewolves if they use the right spell."

"Yuck. Explains why there's a market, I suppose. Does it say anything about sources?"

"No, just that they can be obtained through 'the usual channels' there. Hey, what's that?"

A new link appeared on the screen, 'Download order form'.

"I wonder why it didn't show at first," said Sara.

"Bad web design, I guess. Let's take a look, see if it gives us any leads. Okay, it's a Word file, we can open that."

Warrick clicked to open it. About ten seconds later Word opened to show a black page with the words "Rot in hell, you murderers" in large red letters. Before he could react the network crashed.

* * * * *

Grace Bonnington lived on the third floor of a modest apartment block. There was no reply from her bell, but another tenant on the floor below let them in when they explained what they wanted and showed their ID. As they went up the stairs Oz sniffed, seemed to stiffen, and said "It's here. Smell of wolf... and blood. I think Cain has been here, but I'm not sure."

The apartment door was locked, and nobody responded to Catherine's knock. She shone a torch around the lock and said "It's been picked. Scratch marks, I'd guess old-style button-hook style picks, examining the mechanism may tell us more. Nick, we have reason to suspect that a crime has been committed here, and reason to believe that the owner of the apartment can't give us permission to enter. Call it in, roust out the janitor and we'll see if there's any other route inside. Oz, you won't be able to come inside until we've done some forensics, take a look round the neighbourhood and see if you pick up anything else. Okay?"

"Suits me. I don't want to go in there." Oz and Nick went back downstairs. Catherine waited patiently, alone with her thoughts.

The first police car arrived five minutes later, and in ten Catherine and Nick went in through the service stairs. The apartment was a mess, with slashed cushions and bedding. A glass coffee table was reduced to splinters, and there were bloodstains on the carpet.

"Okay, easy to work this one out," said Nick about an hour later. "The perp picked the lock and shot her from the doorway when she came to investigate. She tried to leap forward but collapsed first - bloodstains and tears to the carpet where she went down. The damage to the apartment was done before she was shot; there are bloodstains overlying the broken glass and the carpet it's lying on, consistent with wounding after the table was broken. The slashes in the carpet look like claw marks. There are also stains where the body fell, and two cartridge cases. As for the perp, we've some gloved fingermarks, some strands of black hair, and three partial footprints, size nine or ten."

"Not exactly subtle," said Catherine.

"I know. Maybe he was simply a little late getting there, giving her time to do the damage before he broke in. Maybe he intended to kill her elsewhere, but something went wrong. Look around again, we may be missing something."

Twenty minutes passed, then Nick reached carefully into one of the torn cushions and said "Found it."

"What?"

"Hypodermic dart. Must have intended to drug her then take her elsewhere to kill her, but missed the shot. By the time he used his back-up gun the place was wrecked. Get photos, then I'll bag it and tag it. You never know, there might even be prints on it."

One of the detectives called Nick down to the back door of the block, which also had pick-marks.

Oz was waiting at the car when they got back outside. "Find anything?" asked Nick.

"No. You?"

"She died here. Looks like he tried to shoot her with a hypodermic, missed, and had to use a hand-gun to finish her off."

"Careless."

"Mmm... doesn't sound quite the mighty hunter we were expecting," said Catherine.

"Not sure it was Cain," said Oz. "Similar, but the smell is guns and clothes, not the man."

"But you said you smelled him in the camper," protested Nick.

"That was Cain. I think this wasn't."

"Damn," said Catherine, "Sounds like he's got an accomplice."


	3. Chapter 3

Warrick came through on the car phone with the results of the record search.

"..so there was one similar attack reported this month, and two last month?" asked Nick.

"Yeah. All victims resident within a mile or so of the Bonnington apartment. We're still looking for earlier incidents."

"Looks like Teri was right. Have you checked the current whereabouts of the victims?"

"All accounted for, nobody missing. And nobody's mentioning having turned into a wolf last week, for what that's worth. Not that I could exactly ask that."

"Not something that fits easily into a conversation," said Catherine. "'Are you now or have you ever been a werewolf?'"

"Hmm..." said Nick, "let's say that there are three people attacked every month, and usually one gets the disease. That would mean that one victim didn't report an attack this month, and that someone else was attacked last month, didn't report it, and was presumably infected and murdered."

"At least that many," said Warrick. "On those figures four out of six attacks were reported, which sounds a little on the high side. There was no obvious harm apart from some scratches, and at least some of the victims would assume that they'd got falling down drunk. I wouldn't be surprised if it was four or five people attacked each month."

"If it was that many the whole operation would be too complex," Sara said over the radio. "Cain, or whoever it is, has to be monitoring the victims somehow, and there'd be a substantial risk that at least one werewolf would get away from him. I think Nick is right, it's three a month, even four would be stretching things."

"Let's check out the other victims," suggested Catherine, "we may be able to find some sort of common link, or work out how they're being monitored, or Oz may smell something. We're in the area, let me have the addresses."

"Downloading to you now," said Warrick.

"Have you found out where the rabbit she ate came from?" asked Sara.

"Looks like she bought it, ready for cooking, then changed and ate it raw. There was a recipe book in he kitchen with a marker at the page for rabbit stew."

"Full moon..." said Oz "...it gives us an appetite for meat."

"By the way, know anyone who writes computer viruses, Catherine?"

"No. Why?"

"We tried to take a look at an order form for werewolf pelts on a web site. It looks like the site had been hacked, the form was a phoney carrying a macro virus payload. Nasty one, targets Macs as well as Windows. Slid through our firewalls and virus checkers like they weren't there, crashed the network, would have wiped the hard disks on the records server if it hadn't been down for maintainance. The systems guys are still getting rid of it."

"What's that to do with me?"

"Oh, just that it seems to be called 'wil0'. Probably just a coincidence."

Oz winced slightly, but said nothing.

* * * * *

Grissom's eyes were glazing slightly as he watched his second hour of video. It hadn't been hard to find a factory with security cameras that covered the road at its next junction, the trouble was that the resolution was poor; the picture was quartered to show the view from four cameras, so vehicles were little more than boxy blurs. He had the recorder linked to a portable computer with image enhancing software, as anything that looked remotely like a camper passed he froze the picture and waited thirty seconds or so to get the enhanced view. So far it was eight times unlucky, now he was waiting for vehicle number nine, recorded a few hours before sunset on the first night of the full moon. And... bingo. Even enhanced it wasn't possible to read the licence plates, but it certainly looked like the camper. He ran the tape back a few seconds; it had turned left, out of another road leading further into the industrial zone. He noted the date, time, and direction, and patiently settled back to watch the rest of the tape.

An hour later he started to repeat the process at a factory that had cameras overlooking the next junction. He had a feeling this was going to take a while.

* * * * *

"Just thought of something," said Oz as they went up to the first apartment. "Were any teeth missing from the body?"

"No," said Nick. "Why?"

"I was told he takes one for every werewolf he kills."

"That picture," said Catherine, "I thought he was wearing a necklace of sharks' teeth. You're saying those were werewolf fangs?"

"Yeah."

"Then he's killed twenty or thirty..."

"...people," Oz finished.

"Maybe he stopped doing that when he stopped hunting them." contributed Nick.

"Maybe," said Oz.

"It'd make sense if an accomplice is doing the killing," said Catherine. "Someone who wants the money, not souvenirs."

"Here we are... Apartment 14, Laura Howard. Smell anything, Oz?"

"Mmm. Yeah, same man, smell of gun oil and leather, very faint, but there's no blood and no wolf."

"Okay, sounds like she wasn't infected. Look at the lock... similar scratches, not as recent. Oz, stay in the background, Nick and I will do the talking."

"Okay."

The door opened. Laura Howard was an attractive brunette in her twenties, who didn't seem particularly pleased to see them.

"Miss Howard? I'm Catherine Willows, this is Nick Stokes, Daniel Osbourne, here's my identification. We're investigating a homicide which may be related to the drug incident you reported last month."

"You'd better come in."

Catherine asked a few routine questions, leading her into a long recital of the evening's events. "...so I got to the bar and I asked for a bloody Mary. And then they wouldn't take the voucher I gave them, so I had to pay $4.95 which is ridiculous for a drink that size."

"Just a moment," said Nick. "I don't think you mentioned a voucher before, what was it?"

"Oh, someone sent me a half-dozen vouchers for free drinks at that bar, some sort of promotion, only the barman pretended that he didn't know anything about them. I wrote and complained to the management and the Chamber of Commerce."

"These vouchers... did you have to use them at a particular time?"

"Yes, how did you know that? That evening, between six and eight."

"Miss Howard, we have a murder victim who seems to have been lured to another bar and drugged under similar circumstances. It's possible that the same person or persons was responsible. Those vouchers may be a vital clue. Do you still have them?"

"Maybe... I don't know." She moved to a desk and rummaged throught the drawers, eventually pulling out two crumpled paper tickets. Nick bagged them as evidence.

"But why me? Why drug me?"

"It's a little difficult to explain.." said Nick, floundering slightly, as he realised that there was no way she would believe the truth.

"Tissue typing," Catherine improvised, recognising the problem.

"Tissue typing?" echoed Laura. As she looked at Catherine she missed seeing Nick silently mouth "What?"

"We think that when you were drugged they took tissue samples for organ donation. We have evidence of several similar incidents. Eventually we believe that they found a victim who met their needs."

"Oh.. my.. God. Are you serious? Suppose they come back for me?"

"It isn't likely, we think they got what they were looking for. But I'd strongly advise you to be more careful about invitations from unknown sources."

While they were talking Oz wandered around the apartment, almost unnoticed, looking at ornaments and pictures. From somewhere he'd picked up a notebook; he jotted a few words then gave it to Nick, saying "I forgot to pass on this message." It read: "I think the room is bugged."

* * * * *

"Organ thieves? What in hell made you say that?" asked Nick when they were back outside.

"We couldn't very well tell her the truth. 'Someone tried to turn you into a werewolf but you were lucky and didn't get the disease'; that's really going to freak her out. But organ thefts are an urban legend, everyone has heard stories, it's just inherently more believable."

"I would have said alien abduction." contributed Oz. "Less threatening, especially if you liked ET."

"Thanks," said Nick. "That really helps. Now, what was that about the apartment being bugged?"

"Smelled damp plaster and the same man-scent as before, so I found the place it was strongest. Looked like the wallpaper had been cut and replaced, with something plastered in underneath. Two little pin-holes through the paper, and something about a foot long going up above it. My guess is a camera with a pinhole lens and microphone, and a wire antenna above it. Seen them on sale in electronics shops, a couple of hundred bucks including a short-range transmitter. I made sure that I didn't look at it directly."

"Well, there must have been a reason why he went into the apartment, and it wasn't to kill her," said Catherine. "You're probably right. Presumably there was one in the Bonnington apartment too, and in the apartments of the other people who were drugged."

"Yeah, that would make sense," Nick agreed. "Why didn't you just say something, Oz?"

"Cain might still be using it. Doubt it, the batteries have probably run down, but I didn't want him to see me find it. Too easy to guess what I am."

"You're worried that Cain will panic if he finds out a werewolf is on his trail? Okay, we'll check the Bonnington apartment with a frequency scanner, and pretend to find the bug accidentally if we pick up transmissions."

"That's good, but it's not why. Cain doesn't think werewolves are human; he won't panic, and I don't want to set myself up as a target. Not unless you can use it to catch him."

"You'd let Cain take a shot at you?" asked Catherine.

"If it's the way to catch him."

She shivered, despite the heat, as she realised that he meant it.

* * * * *

That evening they met back in Grissom's office. "Well? Warrick, Sara?"

"We've three Rohypnol victims, this month and the month before, no other bodies," said Warrick. "Reno PD say they have five similar cases over the three months before that, including one girl who disappeared three weeks later. Sounds like that month's werewolf. We're still trying to find where they were before that."

"No men?" asked Grissom.

"None so far. But men are less likely to report something like that, they tend to assume that they've blacked out and had a wonderful evening."

"Nick, Catherine?"

"We've visited four apartments," said Nick, "it looks like all four were burgled and bugged while the occupant was out. Oz smelled damp plaster where the bugs were hidden."

"Anything useful about the bugs?"

"Not really. They used Mitkoto 2300 modules, that's an integrated monochrome camera, microphone and transmitter unit. The transmitter only has a range of about fifty feet, less through walls. There would have to be a relay somewhere picking up the signal and re-transmitting it, or putting it on line, but we haven't found one yet, I'd guess they retrieved them. Only one transmitter was still live, the batteries had died in the others. Typically they have a battery life of three to four weeks."

"Oz?"

"No more werewolves so far, but I picked up the scent of the same person in all four apartments. Not Cain, someone else. I checked the camper again, Greg got the seat out so that I wasn't distracted by the blood smell. Cain's smell is definitely there, as well as the other man, so he has a partner."

"Greg?"

"Yeah, I can confirm that, I've got hair and skin cells from two different males. Both Caucasian, black hair. No prints. The vouchers were printed on a colour inkjet, something that takes a standard high-resolution Hewlett Packard cartridge. Again, no useful prints."

"Teri?"

"I've contacted customs and the CITES organisations which monitors traffic in endangered species, warned them that we've had a tipoff that poachers are smuggling wolf pelts from Las Vegas to Sri Lanka. We'll be contacted if anything unusual turns up. I haven't been able to find out anything about existing smuggling routes, unfortunately."

"Keep on it, ATF or Narcotics may be able to tell you something. Well, we're certainly getting a picture of their M.O." said Grissom. "They come into town and find some likely prospects - looking at your report I'd describe the typical victim as single, unattached, a part-time worker or unemployed, with the beginnings of a drinking problem - and trick them into visiting a bar where they can be drugged and led outside to be infected with the disease. Meanwhile another perpetrator breaks into the victim's homes and plants the cameras. At the full moon they wait to see if any of the victims change; if they do the victim is murdered. I'd guess that the murder is usually much neater, and tends to be reported as a missing person. Once the victim has been killed the corpse is transported somewhere where it can be skinned and buried or destroyed. The camera tapes seem to indicate it's somewhere in the industrial zone, but I haven't pin-pointed it yet. Ought to have it tomorrow. Comments?"

"There could be more than two perps," said Sara, "or some information source giving them the names of suitable victims. They infected the first victims in Las Vegas only two weeks after they left Reno."

"I thought about that," said Catherine. "All of them would have been at home during the day occasionally. I think one of the perps might have posed as a market researcher, offered some token payment or a prize for taking the time to answer a few questions. When we finish I'll check it out."

"There's probably at least one other vehicle," said Nick. "I think they kept the camper as an expendable vehicle for moving the bodies, didn't use it for anything else. There are no prints inside, and it'd been through a car wash no more than a day or two before it was abandoned so nothing outside."

"We might get lucky with the car wash," said Warrick. "Most service stations have a few cameras to get the licences of drivers who leave without paying. It's possible that our perps would show up."

"Unless you can find something to indicate where it was washed we'll save that for a last resort." said Grissom. "There are more than four hundred service stations in this town. Something I'm still not clear on, if there were two perpetrators, and two vehicles, and they weren't both in the camper, why did they skin the body in the camper? It would have made more sense to get the other vehicle, clean up the camper before abandoning it, maybe set fire to it, and transport the body to be skinned at their base."

"I think I know," said Teri, "It makes sense if Cain is out of the picture that evening, and the other perp has to do everything on his own. Oz, when you examined the camper the first time you said that you smelled a male werewolf as well as Cain, but the evidence suggests that most of the victims are female. Could you still smell the werewolf when you smelled the seat tonight?"

"Yeah, still there."

"Oz, could the male werewolf be Cain?"


	4. Chapter 4

"Okay, try this next one," said Greg, passing a small plastic tube to Oz.

"The other guy, no wolf."

"And this?"

"Nick."

"And this?"

"Cain.. and the wolf."

"And this?"

"Vinyl or some other sort of plastic."

"This?"

"Catherine."

"And this?"

"Cain and the wolf again."

"Okay, I think that pretty much proves it. You've been right every time, and you weren't fooled by the controls I put in. Cain's skin cells and hair have the wolf smell, every time, and we can't get the male wolf smell without Cain. It isn't just a smell in the camper, it's coming from his tissues. That last tube was a skin sample I'd flushed with a mild detergent to remove anything that was sticking to it. You still recognised it."

"Why didn't you spot it earlier?" asked Grissom.

"It could be that the original smell hasn't changed," said Oz, "the wolf is like an.. an overlay. I've never met someone before and after they became a werewolf, maybe that's how it works."

"Could it be that the overall scent has changed, but you're processing it in some way to find familiar scents within it? That would maybe explain why the wolf scent as a whole seemed faint, you were only picking up the parts that said 'werewolf' and handling the parts that said 'Cain' as a separate smell."

"Damned if I know," Oz shrugged. "It's not like lycanthropy comes with an instruction manual."

"Would it be okay to take a sample of your skin, just a few cells?" asked Greg. "I think I know a way to figure it out."

"Sure."

A few minutes later Greg called them over to the gas chromatograph.

"Here we go. I compared organic molecules, scent molecules, released by three samples; your skin, the skin flakes we think are from Cain, and a piece of the skin from the corpse. When I put them through they're mostly well within human norms, showing fairly random variations, but all three have several spikes of unusually high concentration in common. Any one of them would be nothing too unusual, maybe a slightly unbalanced diet or some sort of metabolic disorder. That one is often associated with type two diabetes, for example, that one with thyroid problems. Put them all together and you've got a signature smell, one that probably isn't going to turn up for any other reason. But it's made entirely out of normal human scent components."

"Could you use it to spot werewolves?" asked Oz.

"Not easily. Like I said, everything there is in any normal human's odour, in the smell of most mammals too. It's just a little more concentrated than usual. A chemical sniffer could be built to spot those specific chemicals, but it'd give hundreds of false positives for every werewolf it found. A dog would do better, of course, but you already knew that."

Oz seemed to relax slightly. "Dogs I can live with. Werewolf detectors would make life difficult."

"I think we'll have to go with the assumption that Cain is a werewolf," said Grissom. "If he was bitten about fifteen months ago, the last time he sold a pelt before he changed his trading pattern, he had four months to get this alternative plan up and running."

"That's fast," commented Greg.

"I'd imagine he'd already given it some thought before he was bitten. The main need was presumably a reliable assistant, I'd be surprised if he didn't have someone lined up for the job."

"I never heard of Cain working with anyone, but I'll ask my friends," said Oz. "I'll make a few calls tonight, unless I have some urgent news I'll see you guys in the morning."

* * * * *

 

"Okay," Oz said over coffee in the conference room the following morning. "That was a bust. Nobody seems to have a handle on him beyond what we've already learned. Everyone promised to look into it, but they're all kinda busy with their own problems.. I got one suggestion that might work, but we'd have to be really dumb or desperate to try it."

"What's that?" asked Catherine.

"I summon a vengeance demon on behalf of the victims and wish that the murder should be solved."

"You're joking, right?" Nick asked, spluttering coffee. Oz shook his head. "You can do that?"

"Sure. She suggested it, and I've got her cellphone number. But vengeance demons aren't big on helpful; anything I wished for would be twisted to hurt us or the world, a lot more than it helped us."

"How about 'I wish that the murderer or murderers should be bought to justice'?"

"Define 'justice'. Define 'brought to'. Define 'murderer'. Want a solution that gets them arrested but incidentally kills a few more innocent people along the way? Want them sent to eternal torment? Or skinned alive? Because that's what vengeance demons are about."

"Let's stick with normal investigative techniques so far as is possible," said Grissom hastily, "I think we still have some avenues open."

"Works for me," said Oz.

"First some news," said Grissom, displaying a map on the plasma screen. "Reno police have ID on Cain as the purchaser of the camper. The vendor recognised him from a photographic lineup. That and the body give us grounds to arrest Cain if we find him. Later today I hope to know where they are based. I'm still viewing tapes, but it looks like the camper came from one of the factories or warehouses in this area. We ought to be able to pin it down more precisely by early afternoon, I already have a judge ready to sign search warrants. Catherine, did you get anywhere with the victims?"

"Two of them remember being visited by a market researcher about a week before the attacks. He asked questions about their purchasing habits, with an emphasis on leisure activities, food, and drink. He paid twenty dollars in cash for their time. The third was evasive, says she can't remember; I think she slept with him. I checked in records, she has some prostitution arrests as a teenager."

"Get a description?"

"The two that are cooperating are with artists now. The preliminary description is early to mid thirties, about five ten, stocky build, attractive, dark hair. Wore a business suit."

"Get the sketches, descriptions, and Cain's photograph circulated to all hotels and motels. Nick?"

"I checked the bars. All of the bartenders were questioned after the original druggings, but of course we didn't know about Cain then. I have one tentative ID on Cain as a customer who might have been near one of the victims, but I'm afraid it wouldn't stand up in court. They were just too busy."

"Leave it for now. Warrick?"

"Looks like the car wash is a bust. Standard chemicals for an automatic wash process, so could be pretty well any service station. Nothing in or on the camper to pin it down more precisely."

"Leave that one too. Sara?"

"I've been checking the evidence to see if we've overlooked anything, or if there are any anomolies in the case we're putting together. A couple of things came up. First, there seems to be some confusion about Cain's movements. The transaction records that we received suggest that he arrived in Las Vegas within the last month, we more or less ignored that once we had evidence that he began operations here earlier. I'm not sure how that can be explained, but it needs to be clarified before the case goes to court. It could simply be that for some reason a few withdrawals took a while to reach his account."

"Good point, although I don't think those records will be admissible in court anyway. Unknown source, and we didn't have any legal right to see them. Unless you can tell us more about that, Oz."

"I'd guess they were obtained illegally, possibly magically."

"But none of us know, which means they're inadmissable as evidence. What was the second point?"

"There's blood from three sources in the camper; this month's body and two different groups about a month earlier. DNA tests show all three samples are from women. We did discuss it initially, but I think we've been tending to overlook it in subsequent consideration of the case. It's possible that one or both has another explanation but I doubt it. So we're looking for two more missing women, not one, and two bodies. If there were two werewolves and two survivors last month we also have to assume that a minimum of four people were attacked, not three. I see no reason to assume that it wasn't a typical month."

"You're right. This isn't the first slip-up we've seen since this case began, and I have to remind you all that we ought to be paying full attention to all details. I think that we're all guilty of letting the weirdness of it all get to us, and it's making us a little sloppy. Thanks for pulling us up, Sara. Greg?"

"I've checked with the distributors, found an electronics store in Reno that sold a dozen Mitkoto 2300 modules and two receiver units two months ago. The purchaser may have been Cain, the description more or less matches, and I've arranged for Reno PD check the clerk with photos. The receivers plug into a PC like a web cam, and have a directional antenna. I'd guess that there was a laptop in the camper, our perp simply parked outside, checked to see if there was a werewolf, and went in if he saw one."

"Get photographs of the receiver units from the manufacturer, and details of any software that the camera uses. If the receiver is bulky add a picture to the photos that we'll be circulating to hotels. Teri?"

"FBI and customs have been trying to put together a big case, illegal importation of endangered species and transportation across state lines. They say that the route they're following takes in Sri Lanka, and that they have evidence that contraband is flowing in both directions. They were able to give me some names, people in Nevada suspected of involvement, but they want us to stay clear until they're ready to make arrests."

"Get the details to Brass, he can have them watched, see if Cain pays a call."

Grisson tapped a key on his laptop, and a calendar appeared on the screen. "This is the timetable for the last four months, so far as we know it. Here are the incidents reported in Las Vegas and Reno. The women were drugged and presumably infected on the dates highlighted in red, with the full moon two to three weeks later. If they follow this pattern again they're almost ready to infect their next batch of victims, and will do so in two to three days. We have a deadline. If we haven't made major progress by the end of the day I'm going to advise Brass to go public with the picture of Cain and the best artist's impression of his accomplice; this will most likely make them dive for cover and start up again in another city, but the only alternative is to let them carry on and accept the risk that one or more of the victims will become a werewolf."

"There's something else we need to bear in mind; having all of us work on a single case like this is an enormous drain on our resources. The rest of the department is overworked, and people are losing out on leave and their free time. We can't sustain it indefinitely."

"Now I think it'll be at least two to three hours before we're ready to search. I'd appreciate it if everyone could get their notes up to date and check for any errors. Oz, I know you don't have any notes, but we need you to brief the SWAT team that'll be going in with us. Brass has assigned men who worked with Riley and Angel earlier this year, I think they can be trusted to keep your... unusual condition to themselves. In particular, I think we have to be prepared for the possibility that Cain can also become a wolf at other times of the month."

"It isn't likely, there's only one place that gives that training and he hasn't been there in the last eighteen months. I'd know."

"Nevertheless, I think they need to be briefed for that contingency. I think you'll have to show them the tape we made."

"Two conditions."

"Conditions?"

"You let me destroy the tape afterwards. And if we find any bodies, I get to try to turn them back to human."

"Are you sure? It looked like an ordeal for you..."

"I'm sure. They didn't ask for this, nobody does, the least we can do is bury them as human."

"Agreed."

* * * * *

 

"Good morning, everyone. My name's Oz, and Captain Brass and Gil Grissom have asked me to brief you on some problems we may be encountering today. Now, I'm sure that many of you like horror films. In a minute or two I'm going to show you one, with me as the star. Afterwards I'll try to explain what's going on, and what you'll need to do about it..."

"How did they take it?" asked Grissom, an hour or so later.

"Pretty well, apart from the guy who threw up when I was sniffing the body. A couple have gone off to get some more tranquilliser guns from the animal control unit, the rest are discussing tactics. It's amazing."

"What is?"

"Guys twice my size with guns, edging away from me."

"It's probably good for them to be reminded that you can't always judge by appearances. When you go back in you can tell them we've narrowed it down to a block of four warehouses. We're just waiting on warrants, we ought to be able to move within the hour. And here are copies of the artist's sketch of Cain's accomplice. We're running it through the ID computer now, so far there's nothing. I don't suppose you know him?"

"No. I could e-mail it to my contacts, see if they know anything."

"Good idea - I'll get it out to Angel and Riley. Here's the file code if you want to download it from our computers and send it anywhere else."

* * * * *

 

Grissom put a large-scale map on the screen. "The warrant covers the four warehouses along this road between these two junctions, which appear to be the origin of the camper we've been trying to trace. They're owned by Stag Properties, according to them all four should currently be unoccupied, they're scheduled for refurbishment later this year. All four of them share a common site, with access via these gates."

"Shouldn't they have some security there to make sure that they aren't vandalised or used illegally?" asked Nick.

"You'd think so, but apparently not."

"Wonder why..."

"Whatever the reason, they have allegedly been empty for the last three months, but we have evidence that the camper came from one of them. We're going to check all four, looking for vehicle tracks, any sign of recent use, and of course evidence related to this case. Any questions?"

"What support will we have?" asked Catherine.

"Thirty officers, SWAT and Serious Crimes squad, all briefed on werewolves, some of them have tranquilliser guns and protective clothing. A helicopter flying aerial patrol around the site. A wrecking van with all the equipment we're likely to need for forcing an entry. And additional SWAT support will be available if needed. Anyone else? No? We'll go in fast, but we'll take it cautiously. Everyone in bulletproof vests, that includes you, Oz. I don't want any evidence lost through carelessness, so watch out. Once the the site is secured and any arrests have been made we'll conduct a thorough search. This means that everyone else stays out of the way to avoid contaminating the evidence field. Oz, that includes you, but I do want you present. There may be something you'll smell that we'll miss. All right, let's get down to the cars, it's going to be a busy afternoon."

* * * * *

 

"Up ahead on the left," said Grissom in the lead car. "Stop here, let's take a look before we go in. Check if the helicopter has spotted anything."

"Air 320, this is CSI 04, any signs of life?"

"Air 320 to CSI 04, I can see some dogs on the ground behind the buildings, they're running round toward the gate now. Apart from that there's nothing."

"Copy, we can see them now. CSI 04 out."

Four large German Shepherds raced around the corner of one of the buildings and ran towards the locked gates. As they got closer they suddenly stopped, and began to bark furiously.

"They smell me," said Oz from the back seat. "Let me out, I'll handle them."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

"Be careful."

Oz walked towards the gates and crouched in front of them, putting a hand out through the bars. One of the dogs sprang forward, still barking. Somehow, so fast that none of the CSI team could see it, Oz grabbed its collar and pulled its head to the bars, then growled loudly. The dog barked again; Oz growled, and seemed to blow air into its muzzle. It started to whine, and the other dogs stopped barking. Oz released his hold and the dog slunk back to the others. All four began to back away, whining.

"Okay, that ought to hold them for a while, but you might want to get someone to round them up."

"What did you do?" asked Grissom curiously.

"Established that I was the Alpha male and not to be messed with."

"Did you learn that from the monastery?"

"No, the Discovery Channel."

"Figures. Someone get the bolt cutters, we're going in."

"Cain's been here, so's the other guy," Oz said suddenly.

"Are they here now?" asked Grissom as a burly officer worked on the lock.

"Don't know, scent is pretty fresh. Maybe today, maybe yesterday. Know more inside."

"Okay." The lock finally snapped, Nick bagged it for forensics. Grissom walked in, flanked by Oz and the uniformed officers.

"Everyone keep on the hard paving, but watch out for any vehicle tracks and stay off them. Check all four buildings for signs of recent entry. Oz?"

"Don't know... let me check nearer the buildings."

They fanned out around the warehouses, with Oz taking the lead, crouching and sniffing every few yards. "This way. One of the two buildings to the left, I think." Eventually he stopped in front of a metal shutter door. "Here. I can smell blood, smoke, at least two werewolves, and Cain and his friend."

"That door's padlocked from the outside. Everyone, check for open entrances."

"Nothing."

"Right. Get us inside. It sounds like they're not here, but they may have left something behind."

* * * * *

 

The door rattled up, and the first officers entered, fanning out with rifles ready. "Nothing," one shouted, "they've cleaned it out."

The CSI team followed, and Oz said "Wolf smell over there, really strong."

"Walk carefully, don't touch anything."

"Here," said Oz, squatting in front of a clear area of floor.

"It's been cleaned," said Grissom, "but if you look carefully there's a square of darker concrete, about ten foot on a side, with holes drilled around the edges. Oz?"

"Stinks of wolf. Wolf pee. Cain, that's where they kept him."

"Could be. If they had to keep him under control for three nights they'd need a cage. Something portable, that could be bolted to the floor."

"Over here," shouted Warrick. "Something in the ashes of this fire."

There was a pile of old timbers in one of the corners of the building, smouldering slightly. Warrick took photographs while Catherine pulled a pair of tongs from her evidence kit and groped in the ashes, pulling out a piece of translucent material, a few inches across, burned at the edges.

"What have you got?" asked Nick.

"Looks like human skin, but I'd say it had been treated with tannin or some similar chemical process."

"Human... Oz, check this out, but watch where you walk."

Oz came over and sniffed. "It's her... the body from the camper." He shook his head, and added "She's not the only one here... I can smell them..." He crouched again, sniffed. "Something rotting... and some sort of chemical, maybe lime... and something else. Concrete? They're buried here, somewhere under the floor."

"Can you pin it down?" asked Catherine.

"Over this way, I think. Somewhere in the loading bay."

"Wait, let me get a halogen light," said Nick, shining it around the bay. "Nothing... nothing... wait, the floor here looks different from the rest. Smoother."

"I think they've filled in some sort of drain, or a small inspection pit," said Catherine. "It's hard, we'll need a drill to get at them."

"Cain's gone, isn't he," said Oz.

"Certainly looks like it," said Nick. "Looks like they loaded their equipment and left some time yesterday or this morning. They must have decided to get out, once they realised we were on their trail."

"But why now? Why not leave as soon as they had to abandon the body?"

"I don't know."

"I do," said Grissom. "That skin... it must have been the pelt they took from the body. When you turned her human again, the skin changed too. They must have decided that we were using magic to find them."

"So... I did it... I made them run..?" asked Oz.

"I guess so."

"And they could be starting up again now, somewhere else?"

"I guess so."

"No... No they won't..." said Oz, and dropped to a crouch. "Stay back, and keep out of my way." His face changed, and his arms, and his clothing tore, revealing shaggy fur. He roared, and began to bound towards the door.

"Follow him and don't shoot!" shouted Grissom.

Oz roared again, and leaped past a startled SWAT officer, out of the building and toward the road.


	5. Chapter 5

There was a police car blocking the gate; Oz leaped onto the roof, crouching, seemed to sniff the air, then bounded off along the road, faster than a running man, stopping at intervals to sniff the road.

Grissom shouted "Get some cars ahead of him, but give him plenty of space, so long as he isn't hurting anyone let him run. Use the loudspeakers to say that there's a rabid cougar on the loose, that'll get people off the street. Warrick, Sara, with me, Nick, Catherine, stay here."

The cars set off in pursuit, with the helicopter overhead ready to follow if Oz left the road.

"Where's he heading?" asked Sara a few minutes later.

"Looks like out of the city," said Warrick.

"Certainly not much more left," said Sara. "All that's ahead of us now are some of the outer suburbs then the freeway."

"Heading for the coast?"

"Yes. Could be Los Angeles, San Francisco, anywhere," said Grissom

"With a few hours start they could already be there," said Sara gloomily

"Think positively, they might still be in Las Vegas," said Grissom.

"And this is good?" asked Warrick

"Not really..."

"It's been over half an hour now," said Grissom. "Nothing ahead but service stations and motels. He's not planning to stop, is he?"

"I don't think so," said Nick. "Although he does seem to be slowing. I think he's losing the scent."

"Not surprised, there must be five hundred vehicles an hour on this road. I hate to think what the traffic is like behind us."

"If this gets on the TV news it'll look like the OJ car chase," said Warrick, "with a werewolf on the road instead of a car."

"So far the press don't seem to have noticed, must be a big story breaking somewhere else."

"Five million dollar jackpot at the Sands," said the driver, listening on the radio.

"That'd do it. Not for long though."

Oz stopped, crouched panting, then ran towards the side of the road and off across country.

"Air 320, any idea where he's headed?"

"Looks like the truck stop about eight miles back."

"Damn. Have you got a dart rifle aboard?"

"Affirmative, CSI."

"Wait until he's closer, make sure he's going there, but drop him at least half a mile out. I don't want any accidents."

"Affirmative... Okay, he's definitely headed there... firing... he's down."

"Right, now let's get some cars to that truck stop."

* * * * *

"Where am I?" said Oz, then looked around to see a familiar cell.

"Feeling human yet?" said Catherine over the intercom.

"Pretty much. What the hell happened?" Oz dressed from his bag, which someone had fetched from his room.

"You went wolf on us, started chasing Cain. We had to dart you, you were heading for a truck stop, could have bitten someone."

"Damn. Did I catch him?"

"Led us right to him. Are you dressed?"

"Give me five minutes to put my spare talismans on then let me out of here, I need some food."

"On my way."

* * * * *

Oz was eating a triple submarine sandwich with fries when Grissom came into the canteen.

"How are you feeling?"

"Hungry, a little tired."

"I'm not surprised. How much has Catherine told you?"

"Not much."

"Well, the good news is that you led us to the truck stop where Cain and his associate were eating lunch. We arrested them, and impounded a truck carrying all of the equipment we expected; the bugging transmitters, the cage, skinning knives, rifles and other weapons, and so forth. We also found the other two bodies, buried where you said."

"Who was his friend anyway?"

"A man named Harvey White. He has no criminal record, he was apparently a hunter like Cain, just not as well known."

"And the bad news?"

"They have excellent lawyers, an LA firm called Wolfram and Hart. At the moment it looks like they'll get bail."

"I'm not surprised, Angel told me some stories about them. Wouldn't surprise me if they were Cain's customer for the pelts."

"Why do you say that?"

"The buildings were owned by Stag Properties. A Hart is a type of stag. Could just be a coincidence, of course."

"Worth checking. Anyway, their lawyer is claiming that the two corpses aren't human, and that the evidence trail linking Cain and his accomplice to the original body is tainted."

"Because of me."

"Not exactly; I don't think they know exactly how we restored the corpse, but they know that it happened. They somehow obtained photographs of it before and after. Their argument appears to be that the body currently in the morgue isn't the body that was found in the camper, and that the body in the camper was an ape."

"So what will you do?"

"Eventually, prove that they're wrong. We have genetic fingerprinting, before and afterwards, and if necessary we'll have to show the tape of the transformation. But we'll need to document every minute, to show that it isn't trick photography. We may even need to demonstrate it in court."

"Demonstrate me, you mean."

"That's right, I'm afraid. We'd have to prove that werewolves exist, and that you in particular can affect other werewolves, affect their corpses, and make them change too."

"And I'd be a freak-show forever, or until someone came gunning for me with silver bullets."

"Yes. I'd imagine that we could arrange something with the witness protection programme..."

"That's just another cage. The hell with it."

"You could choose not to co-operate."

"No... no, I'll co-operate all right. I wouldn't miss this for the world." Something strange appeared in Oz's eyes, an odd black feral glint.

"I don't understand."

"You will. I need to go out for a while, get some air. Talk to you a little later."

* * * * *

An hour later Nick found Oz outside, chatting to an attractive blonde. Oz waved, and said "You still got silver bullets loaded?"

"Um... yes. You know, nothing personal..."

"Don't worry. While Cain is around it's a wise precaution."

"They're about to release him, you know."

"I know."

The door opened, and Cain and White walked out with their attorney. Half a dozen reporters snapped pictures and tried to ask questions, which were ignored, as they climbed into a car and began to work their way out of the car park.

"There they go," said Oz. "They've murdered at least a dozen women, and they'll probably go unpunished. A dozen women calling for vengeance. Anyanka, I wish that everyone could see Cain for what he really is."

Nick saw something out of the corner of his eye, and turned towards the woman. Suddenly her face was a monstrous mask, streaked with blood vessels, and in an inhuman voice she said "Wish granted."

The car swerved, lurching from side to side, and something grey and furry could be seen inside. Soon the windows were spattered with blood.

"Nice to see you, Oz," said the woman, her face changing back to normal, "don't be a stranger." She blew him a kiss, and somehow vanished.

"I think you'd better get over there," said Oz. "Innocent people might get hurt."

* * * * *

"Three dead," said Grissom flatly.

"The last three," said Oz.

"You planned that. You and your friend the demon."

"Demons are as mythical as werewolves."

"How are we supposed to explain this?"

"Some sort of wild animal in the car. Cain was a hunter, he probably put it there."

"And Cain?"

"Ran, used it to cover his tracks."

"So you killed an innocent man."

"Cain killed another murderer and a lawyer working for Wolfram and Hart. If he was genuinely innocent I think that he would have survived. He didn't."

"Lucky that Nick had silver bullets."

"I had a spare clip if he'd forgotten them."

"Oz, what you did was inexcusable."

"I know. Grissom, I thought that you were beginning to understand. The wolf is in me. I can keep it under control, most of the time, but it colours the way I think, the way I behave. The wolf wanted them dead. And to be honest, I couldn't see one good reason not to oblige."

"And what am I supposed to do now?"

"Let me try to restore those women to their original form, then give me a lift to the airfport. Unless you're planning to arrest me I'm heading back to Tibet."

"Very well, you're free to go. And Oz..."

"Yes?"

"You got away with it this time. Don't push your luck."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

* * * * *

"You've got everything?" asked Grissom a few hours later.

"Yeah. Guitar, clothes, a couple of souvenirs for the priests. All checked in."

"How long do you plan on staying in Tibet?" asked Catherine.

"I don't plan on coming back. Bad memories in the USA, if I ever leave I'll probably go somewhere else."

"What about that... demon girl?" asked Nick.

"Too many issues. Besides, sooner or later she'd probably turn me into a frog. I think this is my flight."

"Air India, not Air Force. At least they'll have some movies," said Catherine.

"Best of Bollywood. If you're ever in Tibet get Riley to give you my address. It'd be nice to see you."

"Thanks."

Oz raised his hand in a half-salute then turned and walked towards the gate, whistling something.  
"I see the bad moon rising,  
I see the trouble on the way..."

Soon he was gone.

* * * * *

**Epilogue**

Catherine looked at her notes on the case and wondered what would eventually happen to Oz, and to the strange people he knew. She took a pad from her desk drawer and began to add to the notes she'd started during Angel's visit to Las Vegas:  


> _Angel  
> Vampire, detective  
> Los Angeles - where before then? Europe prior to 20th century  
> \- where since? in last decade?  
> Brief prior contact with Ethan Rayne  
> Mentioned witch called Willow  
> Link to R. Finn; same former girlfriend.  
> Link to Oz - knew his name - contact via R. Finn?  
> Link to "Harry" - female, demonologist. Harriet?  
> Works with woman called "Cordy" - prob. Cordelia.  
> \- Was victim of werewolf attack four years ago._
> 
> Riley Finn  
> Covert government operative - military background?  
> Iowa accent  
> Link to Angel; same ex-girlfriend  
> Involved with experiments on supernatural creatures in California  
> Responsible for arrest of Ethan Rayne  
> Link to Oz - knows him, rescued him, recruited him for CSI  
> \- rescued Oz from dissection - govt. project?  
> Possible link to California (LA? elsewhere?) where he met Angel
> 
> Ethan Rayne  
> British  
> Magician  
> Dangerous  
> Likes chaos  
> Prior contact with Angel.
> 
> Daniel Osbourne (Oz)  
> Werewolf. Former rock musician.  
> California accent  
> Wore UC Sunnydale sweat shirt - check university records?  
> Played for Dingos Ate My Baby - check for web sites etc.  
> Knows Finn, Angel, "Cordy"  
> Was hunted by Cain - where?  
> Has friends who are unofficial "monster hunters".  
> Former girlfriend - now lesbian  
> Knew female werewolf - "Ver.."; Vera? Veronica? - now deceased.  
> A friend influenced R. Finn to save Oz's life  
> \- Friend's name begins "Buff"; poss. "Buffy", usually nickname for Elizabeth.  
> \- Friend is not Oz's ex-girlfriend but knows her.  
> Knows a "vengeance demon", female, has phone no. Anyanka?
> 
> General  
> Oz's friend (female) and former girlfriend are monster hunters  
> Source of documents is British  
> \- organisation that supports monster hunters, including Cain.
> 
> Hypothesis  
> "Cordy" was attacked by a werewolf - Oz?  
> Oz's friend (Buffy?) is female, knows R. Finn. Angel's ex?  
> Experiments imply laboratories. UC Sunnydale facilities, or associated with them?  
> wil0 - some connection to "Willow"?  
> \- Planted by someone who likes werewolves?  
> \- Oz's former girlfriend? = Willow the witch??
> 
> To Do  
> Web search on Angel, Finn, Dingos, Oz, UC Sunnydale, monsters in California

 

A lot of it was reaching, of course, but if she assumed that Angel, Finn, and Oz had a lot of common history it seemed to make a little sense. She wasn't sure what she intended to do if she managed to put the pieces together, but she'd always liked a puzzle and this one was beginning to intrigue her.

**End.**


End file.
